


Demons

by skittishasakitten



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Grounder Bellamy Blake, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittishasakitten/pseuds/skittishasakitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Polis and Azgeda go to war, Bellamy and Clarke on opposing sides, get trapped in a storm and help each other find a little reprieve from their inner demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boudour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boudour/gifts).



> For boudour for the Bellarke spring fic exchange! I hope you enjoy :)

Azgeda had finally moved on Trikru after months of an unsteady truce, war now raged across the clans. They stood divided after an failed attempt on Commander Lexa's life spilled the blood of three high ranking officials. 4 of the 12 clans now standing with the Azgeda in the assault against Polis. Trikru had a number advantage, but what the Ice nation lacked in soldiers they made up for in grit and determination, their battle cries shaking the capitol to its core. 

Roan had ascended to the Ice nation throne after his queen, and mother, had been executed on orders from the Commander when whispers of treasonous plans reached her ears. He swore to conquer Polis in his queens name, the blood of many already staining his hands. However, for all of its spirit Azgeda would not win this war easily, the Commander was an army all of her own and would fight till her very last breath for her people. She was brutal and unforgiving, but fair, and her warriors were no different. She had trained them and all of her seconds in her image and they stood strong against the onslaught. But still people fell, the injured and dead began to pile up on both sides. 

Clarke Griffin, healer for Trikru, was run off her feet, though she was glad of it, it meant she had no time to linger on the thoughts that haunted her, on the pain of her fathers death. However, quickly the need for medics was growing higher than the supply. Although the court was reluctant to let her go the warriors needed to be in peak condition for the next push against the army closing in on Polis. She rode, icy winds nipping her face, outside the capitols border equipped with only a few medical kits, food supplies too low to justify sending her with food for only half a days trip. After around four hours had passed she stopped at a nearby lake to drink and replenish her energy. As she settled at the water line, a figure hunched over in her periphery caught her eye, she tensed and her hand flew to a knife at her hip. She watched them noticing the Trikru warrior clothing they wore, but her hand stayed at the sheath at her waistband, she took a few tentative steps closer to them. 

For a minute she relaxed, then they looked up from under their cowl and she found she knew their face, still stained with white war paint, recognition flashing in his dark eyes. The face was unmistakeable freckles dusting a tan face, dark curls just hidden under the brim of his hood. Bellamy Blake, advisor and second to King Roan, he had come to the court as an envoy on multiple occasions. He was passionate about his people, had been friends with the King for many years and they now led the Ice nation army side by side. She had heard many things about him, not all complementary and enemies or not she wasn't inclined to trust him.

A moment past, both frozen in place, then the world seemed to catch up with them and they both moved quickly. Clarke whipped out her blade and knocked him off balance while he tried to stand, aiming at his exposed neck. She was fast, but not as trained as Bellamy who quickly regained his footing. Her blade nicked his shoulder as he slipped from her reach, favouring his left side, Clarke noted the red blooming from his thigh. Quickly he disarmed her from behind and took hold of both her arms, restraining her. She struggled in his arms and he tightened his grip, her body now flush with his. 

"Stop struggling, I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."

Clarke spat. "Fuck you." She kicked back at his right leg, he buckled hissing in pain, lurching free she scrambled to her knife and wheeled on him as he got to his feet. Before she could act the pounding of hoofs distracted her and she was once again caught in Bellamy's grasp, his hand clasped over her mouth. He tugged her back until they were hidden from sight in the tree line, then his mouth bent near her ear. 

"Be quiet, please," he murmured. Clarke fought his tightening grip, frantic as the sounds of horses and people started to pass them, her noise being muffled by the chatter and clomp of hooves. Clarke bit down on his fingers, he swore and tore his hand away from her face, she slipped from his grasp. This time she went straight for his throat, she tried to forced him back against a tree, but stumbled on the uneven ground. Bellamy's arm shot out and caught her before she hit the ground and pushed her against the closest tree, knife going to her neck. 

"You're not going to kill me." 

"Oh, aren't I? How generous of me." The wind began to pick up and whipped Clarke's hair around her face. Before Clarke could say anymore she felt rain begin to smatter her cheeks, looking up through the tree branches she took in the darkening sky and flashes of light in the distance and knows if she doesn't finish this and find shelter soon she could be putting herself at risk. Anger flares in her chest and her eyes bore into his.

"No, you won't." 

"Excuse me?" Bellamy's voice is now shouting over the growing winds.

"For now at least, you need me." She continues before he can respond. "You're injured and you won't make it far from here, not in this storm. There's no telling how long this storm will take to pass and I don't think you're the type to risk bleeding out." 

"I could kill you where you stand and take your supplies." 

"You could, but you won't." Something flickers behind his eyes. She knows calling his bluff could be risky, but she has no other choice. "I've known a lot killers, and you're not one." Thunder crashes above them as he lowers the blade at her neck, curls sticking to his forehead. He keeps behind her at all times to make sure she doesn't run. Collecting all of their supplies, the pair crash through the trees as the rain beats down on them in search of shelter, clothing sticking to their bodies. A cold chill had begun to bleed through their skin as they came across a cave in a rock face a quarter of a mile from the lake.They darted under cover drawing as far back in the cave as possible to avoid the damp and the cold winds.

Clarke turned to Bellamy, "Have you got anything we can use to start a fire?"

"I have a flint and steel, but we'll find no dry kindling in this storm." Bellamy pushed his hair from his eyes with shaking fingers. 

Clarke swore. "Fine, we can deal with that later, right now I need to bandage your leg."

"I think warmth, and not getting hypothermia should probably be higher up on our list of problems than my leg." Despite this he winces as he lowers himself to the ground.

"Sure if you bleed out and die, hypothermia will no longer be an issue." She collects what she needs from her pack and turns to look at him. "But hey, you're not my problem." they share a look and sighs. 

"Fine." 

"Show me your leg." Getting down on her knees beside him she tore open the rip in his sodden trousers where blood pores at a steady pace from the gash in his thigh. She arranged her supplies by her side, including a bottle of alcohol, with shaking hands. Picking up a strip of cloth she dipped it in the alcohol. "This may sting a little." 

She pressed the cloth into the wound to staunch the bleeding and clean the area, Bellamy hissed in pain his leg jumping as the cloth came in contact. 

"You don't say?" 

Clarke glared, but continued picking up a sterilised needle, but by now her whole body shook and any attempt to thread the needle was fruitless. "Fuck!" 

Bellamy sighed and reached out, "Give me your hands." 

Clarke frowned. "What?" 

He said nothing but gently took her hands in his rubbing them, slowly warming them up. Her eyes met his and for a minute she was intrigued. Then again she noticed the Trikru garb he wore and wonder which one of her people he must of killed to get it. She yanked her hands away, not noticing his frown, and went to work with more steady hands to stitch up his wounds. She worked quickly and deftly as she felt the chill returning to her fingers. 

After covering the wound she looked out of the mouth of the cave rain still streaming from the sky and lightening flashing. Her whole body was shaking, turning back to Bellamy she could see he was too, her wet clothes feeling icey against her skin. 

"We need to take our wet clothes off."

"I'd rather keep mine on thanks." 

"You'll freeze quicker with wet clothes on." She began to peel her wet clothes away from her body and she could feel his eyes on her. "I'd say again you're not my problem, but in this case the best way to heat back up is to share body heat." 

Bellamy looked entirely sceptical, he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a look, "This is in no way a ploy to get sex, it is an attempt to not freeze to death." For a minute Bellamy looked thoughtful, but without a word removed his clothing down to his underwear, putting them off to the side.

"Fuck!" his teeth chattered, "I'm fucking cold, are you sure this was a good idea?" He watched her as she shifted up to him and sat pressed against his side. She let herself look too, perhaps lingering a little to long on his muscles that bunched and flexed as he shifted closer to her. Tentatively he put his arm across her shoulders. Clarke could already begin to feel the warmth slowly begin to bloom where their skin was touching. Moments past between them an awkward silence beginning to pull its way over them. Clarke shifted, the pause causing her to blurt out the question that had been weighing on her mind since she first saw him. 

"Whose were they?" 

She felt him shift beside her. "What?" 

"Trikru armour, it's clearly not yours, so which one of my people did you kill to get it?" 

Bellamy's whole body went rigid, "I killed no one, I knocked one of your less diligent warriors out when he was preoccupied." Clarke wanted to defend the warrior, but knew Bellamy was only needling her so kept her mouth shut. "Even if I had, your people are far from innocent." 

"And yours are any better?" Clarke finally turned to face him, fists clenched in her lap. "I have healed so many wounded civilians who've been attacked by your people. Seen the amount of family's torn apart!" 

"You think the civilians in Azgeda have faired any better?." His voice was bitter, anger simmering behind his eyes. "Theres a kill order on my entire clan, and the others who have sided against her. If she isn't careful soon enough your precious Commander will have no subjects left to rule."

"Lexa is a great commander, she does whats best for her people." Clarke had once felt more than admiration for her Heda, but they both knew it was a relationship that could never work so they drew a line under it and moved on. 

Bellamy laughed. "Right." 

"Do you think Roan just lets traitors go with out consequences?" 

"Traitors?" He shook his head, his voice beginning to shake with anger. "Lexa slaughtered a group of fifteen innocent people because they happened to crossover into her territory for the crime of being Ice nation." His eyes bore into Clarke's his rage beginning to bubble over. "She sent the bodies to Nia to send a message."

"Lexa had received threats on her life by Azgeda, had she or the warriors that were at the border known those people would have been spared." Their voices echoed through the cave covered by the crashes of thunder passing over there heads. 

"I don't think Heda knows the meaning of mercy." 

Clarke spat, "Mercy? Queen Nia showed no mercy when she had the heads of several civilians delivered to the throne room, just to taunt the Commander." Bellamy flinched. 

"Roan isn't Nia." 

"No? With the trail of blood he leaves in his wake he's certainly proving you wrong." 

"Very few people come away from war with clean hands." As these words fell from his lips everything seemed to pause, tension thick in the air, but suddenly an understanding past between them. Despite being a medic she was a trained fighter and had done things in this war that filled her nightmares with blood and death, and left her sleepless most nights. His face suddenly felt very close, close enough for her to examine the constellations of freckles dusting his cheeks, but what made her lose her breath were his eyes. She knew them, they held the same pain as the ones she saw in the mirror each and everyday. 

Warmth flared between their bodies, outside chill forgotten, as his fingers suddenly buried themselves into her hair pressing his lips roughly against hers. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, a groan falling from his lips. Despite their brief acquaintance they both knew this was something they needed, to immerse themselves in someone who understood. To think of nothing but each others bodies, to forget if only for a little while.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as his free hand danced down her spine, skimmed her hip and ran down the inside of her thigh. His fingers moved tantalisingly close to where she needed him most, finally he teased the edge of her underwear. She whimpered and canted her hips. Bellamy pulled his lips from hers, kissed his way along the column of her neck, nipping her earlobe. Finally his fingers moved inside her while his thumb brushes her clit, she cried out. But before she could find her release he pulled away and flipped Clarke onto her back. He removed underwear almost tearing them, then begins his descent down her body. He catches her nipple between his teeth before licking and biting all the exposed flesh all the way down her stomach past her navel.  
His tongue parts her wet folds and tastes every inch of her as her hands dive into his dark curls, hips bucking wildly as she rides out her first orgasm with Bellamy's face between her thighs. They pull apart but not for long, Clarke roughly pushes Bellamy onto his back and positions herself above him. She lowers herself down onto his cock, as his hands explore all parts of her he can reach. For a moment they pause and savour the moment, a sheen of sweat covering their bodies. The hard ground bites into Bellamy's back but he doesn't care and begins to thrust his hips against her, fucking her fast and rough. His hands drop to her ass, as she leans down and kisses him, his fingers dig into to her skin. 

The kiss is all teeth and tongues and she groans as she tastes herself on his lips. Bellamy's breath begins to come out in harsh pants as her feels his own orgasm grow closer. Feeling him twitch inside her she flexes her walls around him. He cries out and she quickly follows riding out her orgasm, her nails raking at his chest. Finally she collapses on him and allows exhaustion to coax her to sleep, dreamless, for the first time in a while.

A few hours later they lay tangled in each other heat radiating from both their bodies, for a long while they drifted in and out of sleep the storm outside slowly dying.

Clarke spoke, breaking the silence "I created the biological weapon that is being used to wipe out hundreds of people. Including the camp whose warriors slaughtered my father." As the words fell from her lips she felt a little lighter, as if her world was a little brighter for being able to share her burden with the man who she somehow felt would understand.

There was a long pause before Bellamy finally spoke. "I have more blood on my hands than I could ever wash off. But the man my sister loved was from Trikru, I unknowingly tipped off my people and got him killed. My sister hates me, I don't blame her." The silence hung thick between them, but as they turned to face one another their eyes said more than words ever could.

"What do you do when you realise you might not be one of the good guys." His voice was soft, eyes searching hers. She ached to chase away the darkness that was painting his features, but could only think of one thing to say. 

"Maybe there are no good guys, just people trying to survive."

**Author's Note:**

> I feel I wanted to expand a little more on certain points, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out :) Again I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
